


I would catch you if you fall

by Helkro



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Bullying, Drinking, Dyslexia, Eventual Romance, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Homophobia, Human, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-09-11
Packaged: 2020-06-23 13:22:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 17,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19702231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Helkro/pseuds/Helkro
Summary: He had never been a teachers pet, but he weren't a problem child either. Crowley was liked by most everybody, and he would like to keep it that way. He stayed out of trouble and mingled with the right people. But when he one day nearly runs over a boy with golden hair, and learn that he is getting bullied, he has to decide what is best. His place on the social ladder, or to help a new friend.





	1. A dear caught in headlights

He had never been a teachers pet, but he weren't a problem child either. Well not in most of his classes anyway. Sure the teachers may think of him as the class clown, but that was the way he liked it. It seemed like the rest of the class liked it to, so that was a bonus. He thought that the teachers secretly liked it to, since most of them always turned around when he said a particularly funny or smart comment. And they never told him to be quiet. Most of the time. The only thing they made clear they didn’t like, where his sunglasses. Where ever he was, they was on, and nobody could get him to take them off. It was like they were glued on his face. 

Right now he was late to math class. Math was the worst. He rounded the corner, and slandered into the classroom, nodding to his friends. Mr. B was deep in an explanation of how the Pythagoras' theorem worked, so he just went to his seat and sat down. Instead of beginning to take notes, he just doodled some small caricature's in his notebook. After a few minutes the teacher was done explaining the rules, and found out that he should talk to Crowley. In front of the whole class no less.  
«Ah thank you for joining us in this lecture, Anthony J Crowley.» Some of his classmates began snickering. Nobody except Mr. B used his whole name, and he only used it when he was in trouble.  
«Always an pleasure, Mr. B.» Crowley leaned back in his chair, adjusting his glasses.  
«I´m sorry i couldn't join sooner, i would but i just don´t see the meaning or rather the value of knowing how to find the side of a triangle» The class began whispering, and waited for the teachers answer. Mr. B cleared his throat.  
«Well i can inform you that if any of you ever are going to take an education to be an engineer this will…»  
«But i wont.» Inserted Crowley befor he could finish. He gave him a challenging smile. Waiting for what he would answer next. He rolled his eyes, and folded his arms.  
«No maybe you won´t, but will you take the opportunity of learning about this form another student. A student who is going to be an engineer?» Mr. B was quite pleased with his answer and smiled proudly.  
«No i wouldn't dream about it, sir. That´s why i came late. I´m not asking you to change the way you teach,» He took a dramatic brake, not breaking eye contact.  
«It's just that i get more out of getting a few more minutes of sleep, than i get learning about this.» Mr. B was about to say something else, but he stopped himself. Some of his classmates were beginning to laugh, and they both knew that Crowley could keep doing this and waist the whole class. Mr. B sighed.  
«Crowley, get your books out, and pay attention. Or go to the principle office.» And that was that. After that was said the class continued, and Crowley used rest of the class time daydreaming.

Crowley liked to be the center of attention, it always gave him an adrenalin rush when he made someone laugh. It was like preforming. He always saw that as a win. And it was easier to think of jokes to make, instead of following along in the hard classes. Because, well they were hard. Lucky he wasn't to far behind the rest of his peers, but he was behind. His mother had used a really good metaphor once; it was like standing in a pool, on your toes and you were fighting to keep your head over the water. She had used it to describe it about herself, when she had to go to yet another work trip, but he felt that it described his situation well too. 

*

Crowley walked into the cafeteria, looking after his group of friends. Or to be more precise, the people he was around at lunchtime, but almost never hang with outside of school. This was his second year here, and he was liked by almost everyone, but he didn't call them his friends. Acquaintance's seemed like a better word. It was that one time one of them had invited him to a party at the beginning of last school year, and he had went. It was okay. A couple of 17 year old boys and a few girls getting drunk wasn't his cup of tea. Honestly he was more of a coffee guy. He also tried not to drink to much around people. He mostly drank when he needed to or when he needed a brake.  
Newt and one other guy was bickering about some music to his right, and to his left sat two girls on their phones, probably talking to one another.  
«What is up, Losers?» He dumped his bag on the table, and took out his lunch smiling. It was his favourite.  
«Losers? The only losers here is his taste in music, and maybe your taste in food» Said Newt pointing at the sandwich with jam and cheese.  
«I´ll look over that last comment to save you from embarrassment when you discover the wondrous world of jam and cheese.» Crowley smiled challenging but with humor in his voice. Newt just rolled his eyes and turned back to his argument. 

Crowley looked around him. He knew most of the people. Well maybe not everybody´s name, but he had seen their faces. If he met them outside of school he would probably do that awkward smile and nod thing before continuing his day. He tried to get involved in one of the conversation, but ended up just listening to some music and scrolling on his phone. 

*

Crowley was walking towards his car. It was an old Bentley that he had inherited from his grandfather. It was a cool car, and he loved it. When he had gotten it it couldn't have driven a mile, but after saving up for a longe time, he finally had gotten someone to look at it and it had been restored. Something he was grateful of. 

As he was driving home that day, music was blasting from his speaker, and he was screaming the lyrics! Bohemian rhapsody was playing, and he nailed all the different voices. He was so lost in his own wold and the music, that he didn’t see the person in the middle of the street. He stepped on the brake with all his weight at he last second. In that moment he understood why seat belts were important. His shoulder hurting and his heart rased, but he was okay. 

The boy in front of him stood frozen. Just looking at the car. They made eye contact. The boy was wearing a beige jacket, and had glasses on. His hair was curly and light, and his eyes was scared. They darted around, trying to figure out what had happened. He had a black backpack thrown over his shoulder with white wings painted on. His face was as red as a tomato, but to be fair, so was Crowley's. He didn't know what to do in that situation. Should he go out, ask if he is okay, continue driving and hopefully never meet him again?  
Before he could do anything the boy turned around on his heel and started walking. Crowley looked after him, music still playing. He saw the blonde turn a corner, and it was first then he remembered that he should continue home. 

For some reason the boy´s face was burned into his memory. He couldn't put his finger on it, but he had a feeling of having seen him before. Was he in one of his classes? why couldn't he remember? He had looked like a dear caught in headlights. Crowley smiled at that description, because in some way that was exactly what he had been. The boy with the angel backpack was the only thing he could think of the rest of the day. It was weird.


	2. The boy in the bathroom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley meets the mystery boy from yesterday

The next day Crowley asked in the reception if there were anyone new. The thought of the boy with the angel backpack had been bothering him all night. What he should have done was said sorry and asked if he needed a ride. Or at the very least asked if he was okay. The receptionist answered him with a simple no, and went back to working. He cursed under his breath, which earned him an ugly glare. Crowley hurried away before she could do or say anything . 

It was still 15 minutes until class began, so he had a lot of time. Crowley wasn't really known for coming early in class. He went over to his locker and put some books in his bag. He wasn’t sure what he had today, so he just picked some random books and hoped for the best. It had pored outside this morning, and his hair was a wet mess right now. He absolutely needed to fix that. 

Two boys was walking down the corridor from the bathroom. Hastur and Ligur. Crowley wasn't a fan, but they had never done or said anything to him. He had heard stories of them beating up people, and when he began here two years ago he had been warned to stay out of their way. When they walked past him, he just nodded at them, while they continued laughing. Crowley walked into the bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror. His read hair was glued to his forehead, and was missing all its volume. If he switched his hair a little bit to the side, he would look like every boy in 2010. That was not the look Crowley was going for. He took som paper towels and began drying his hair. 

Someone was in the stall closest to the wall, so he had to remind himself not to hum. After it was a little more dry, he began shaping his hair so it stop up, but was carful to make it look like he had just rolled out of bed. This is something he usually does before going to school, his little morning routine if you will, but he had seen the rain and figured that he could do it here in the bathroom. After another minute or two he felt that he looked okay, maybe even good, and adjusted his glasses. He turned and walked out, letting the door close behind him. After a few steps he stopped and turned around. He didn't feel his phone in his pocket. And God knows, Crowley don't go anywhere without his phone. Maybe he had forgotten it by the sink. 

When he opened the door, he stopped in his tracks. In front of the mirror was a familiar looking face. The boy he had almost run over. But he didn't look well. He had a sickly looking color painted across his face and was staring at himself. He registered that there was someone else in the room and hurried to turn of the water. Crowley stood glued to the floor. What was he supposed to do. This boy, he don´t even know his name. He knew that the right ting was to ask if he´s okay, and say sorry for yesterday. Do he even know that it was Crowley? Before he could make a decision, the bell rang. He went over to the sink and took up his phone. He sent a message to Newt, before putting it away. A little sniff came from the boy, who where still just standing there. He hadn’t moved an inch. Waiting for what Crowley was going to do next.  
«Are… Are you okay?» He said as he looked at him through the mirror, unsure of what he actually should say.  
«Yeah, don´t worry» The boy ran his fingers nervously throughout his golden curls, before finally looking at him. Crowley met his eyes, the boy looked at his sunglasses. And he was amazed. He wasn't the kind of person that noticed a person's eye color, but this boy had really beautiful eyes. It was like looking at the sky after it had rained. Dark but peaceful. Crowley snapped himself out the trance he was under. 

Crowley looked at himself as a smooth talker in most situations, but when he gets nervous he begins to ramble.  
«Yeah yesterday i was just so into the music you know that i didn’t see you cross the road you know queen can do that to you and i didn't know what to do because i´m for the most part i don´t run over people not that i ran over you and any other person it is just yea and then you just walked away but i was going to ask you if you wanted a ride but you was already gone so i just continued to drive and i was wondering if you were okay and, and please at any moment stop me because i don´t know if i should stop talking and this is just getting embarrassing.» He could se that he was getting redder by the minute, but he could also see the mystery boy smiling fondly at him. That didn't help the situation at all.  
«Yeah i´m okay. I didn't know it was you that almost ran me over tho, just thought it was a random stranger that didn't know his way across the town. Or something.» He looked down shyly. Crowley decided that he liked his voice, and wold like to hear it again. He still didn't know his name.  
«Well i owe you one. Seriously. If you ever need a ride, just message me. Okay?» Crowley was now pretty sure that the boy was in his class, and it would be really rude not to know his name, considering the boy knew who he was. But he knew of a good way to get a name without asking. He took up his phone and pressed add new contact.  
«Here, just write your name and number and then i will text you. Then we will have each others numbers.» Crowley handed it over, and after a few seconds he heard a little sound from the boys backpack. The one with the painted wings. He got the phone back, and the boy was giving him a small smile.  
«Are you going to class? We are really late. I have geography right now, but i don't know if you have that…» He said looking at Crowley. Finally something he could talk about and not sound like a complete idiot.  
«Yeah in a minute. And i actually have history right now, luckily. Geography is the last thing i would want right now.» He explained as he leaned against the wall. The boy gave him a smile and agreed before hurriedly walking out of the bathroom. Crowley looked at himself in the mirror and tried to convince himself that it went well. Then he shut down the though. Before he could do or think anything else, he redirected his thoughts. He was just someone he almost had run over and now he was just giving him something back so he could forget about the incident and him. Nothing else. Then he looked at the clock. It was no use going into class now. This was late even for him and he still didn't know what he had. What he instead did was send the family doctor a message asking for a note. Then he went out of the school and got into the car. He went into the message's on his phone and pressed on the most recent. This made Crowley smile. The boy had sent himself a car emoji. But when he looked at the name his smile vanished. It didn't make any sense. He couldn't read what stood there. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, and thanks again for reading! As i said at he last chapter i´m dyslexic and english isn't my first language, so sorry for any mistake. And i know the ending here didn't make much sense, but don´t worry it will. Kudos and comments are appreciated, but just reading this also make me smile. Thank you again and see you soon


	3. Letters fly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley deal's with a lot of letters and aren't quite so happy about it. Until someone helps him.

Crowley parked his car in the garage and went inside. The hose was beautifully decorated, and looked like it was picked out of one of those magazine's Marie, who was their maid, always read. It was a big hose with many rooms. But sometimes he felt like a stranger in there. It was quite empty and lonely. He yelled to check if anyone was home, even though he knew Marie only worked here on Wednesdays and Saturdays. He sent Newt another message updating him that wont come at all, and to tell the teacher that he didn't feel so good. 

Then the fun began… Well maybe not fun. Definitely not fun. Crowley sat down at the sofa and took off his sunglasses. He tossed them on the table, and just started at himself in the glass. Trying to psyche himself to look at the name.  
He stared at he letters and tried to make sense of them. AirAizr… Azeri… It was definitely an A first and there was a Z somewhere… but the I made no sense. And where to put the E was another story. No that was wrong. His eyes hurt. A part of him just wanted do give up. His head was beginning to hurt to. He picked up his glasses again and put them on his head to stop his hair form falling in his eyes.  
Crowley got up after a minute or two and moved up to the second floor. His bedroom. The first ting he did was throw himself down on the bed. 

If anyone had been home he could just have asked them, he tried to tell himself while he wallowed in self pity. But even him didn't believe that lie. The truth was that he would rather never find out the boys name than bring up his dyslexia. What 18 year old couldn't read? Under his bed was different bottles. Maybe just a little sip would help him concentrate? Or maybe it would make it even worse.  
He debated with himself for a few minutes, but he decided that he could rather drink after he had figured out the name of the boy. Then he could drink until he forgot his own. He tried a few more times, and also tried spelling out the name out loud while talking to himself.  
«Air… Azri… Azira. Yes thats right. Okay first part down. Azira» He tasted the word a few times in his mouth, saying it loud to get familiar with it. Then he continued.  
«Azeri pha…» He used his finger to cover the letters so that they didn't move.  
«Phale. Azeriphale! Yes!» His smile was back on his face. That felt right. After a few seconds the celebration was done, and he began doubting himself. He took up Google translate and wrote the name in. Then he pressed the button.  
«AZIRAPHALE» said the cold robotic voice. Crowley had been right. Why the hell would any parents name their child a so difficult name was beyond him, but he had read it. That was the important part. He had to ask him if he had a nickname, because that name was a mouthful. But it was a nice name. Almost angelic. Azeriphale. He smiled at that and a thought popped into his head. Maybe that was the reason he had that backpack. An angel backpack for a boy with a angelic sounding name.  
«Not that i think of him as angelic or anything.» He murmured to himself. Then he took one of his bottles out. He didn't wanna think of anything else today. He was tired and lonely and just wanted to be and not think. It was a little over noon. He drank to much, or rather just enough, and laid the glasses neatly on his nightstand. He made himself some food, ate it, and then passed out on his bed. One thing he would never admit was that through the whole time, before he blacked-out, a name was repeatedly popping up in his head. 

*

History was actually one of Crowley favourite classes. The teacher was good and understanding, not to mention that it was an interesting class. This was also the one class where his grade was nearly perfect. He had a deal with this teacher that he would take the tests as the rest of his class, then when he and the class was done, he would stay behind and take the test one more time, only this time he would say the answers instead of writing them. This was how they had done it at his last school, but most of the teachers here thought that it was almost like cheating. Their argument was that it gave Crowley an advantage over the other students. That it was unfair.  
One thing he could have done was tell his mom about it, but then there would be all this mess and meetings, so Crowley didn't bother. Plus he would rather spend time with his mom when she first was home, than going to a boring meeting that wouldn't change shit. 

But it was difficult following along when his head hurt like hell. It was like something had a party inside his head. His eyes closed for only a minute and it felt like the room was spinning. He opened his eyes and looked at the clock. Only 10 more minutes. If he just stood up with his bag, he could just say that he was going to the bathroom. Or he could say that he needed to get something before the next class. Maybe she didn't know that he had a free period. He turned his attention towards the board. It had so many dates and name that he didn't even know where to begin. Maybe he should write them down or something? Crowley sat at the back, and if he was discreet maybe he could take a picture with his phone and work through them later. He looked around, and made sure his blitz weren’t on. That would have been embarrassing.  
CLUCK  
The whole room silenced and turned around, facing Crowley who is still holding the phone. He had forgotten to turn the sound off. Shit. He had to think of something to say, and quickly. All eyes where still on him as he smirked and leaned back on his chair. Then he turned towards the teacher.  
«Well someone had to take a picture of everything that´s on the board. My wrist hurts like hell form writing all the dates. Sorry miss, I won't disturb the class any further» He gave her a charming smile, and looked at his classmates. One of them asked a question about sending the picture to him, and Crowley just gave him a small nod. The class went quiet after a few seconds, and Crowley sent the teacher a little smile to show that he was sorry. His head was still hurting, but he didn’t dear to walk out of class now. The clock would ring at any moment anyway. 

*

Crowley was sitting at the back of the library. It was the quietest place and people couldn’t see him. Win win. Most people wouldn't think twice about him sitting here, but he knew people who would. Plus he needed a little extra time getting all the letters in the right place and if someone saw him mouthing out the words… Well then they would see how slowly he read. And that was a conversation he did not want to have.  
There was this question he was working on right now that he could not find the answer to.  
«What is the Coriolis effect and give an in depth explanation for why it is so important, at least a page long.» Crowley didn't know the answer. His head fell hard on the table, creating a loud sound. It hurt but he didn't care.  
«Umm excuse me, do you need any he… Crowley?» That voice. Crowley laid very still, and for a moment, a tiny moment, he hoped that the boy would just turn around and walk away. Like the first time. But he didn’t. There was only one thing to do. He adjusted his glasses and slowly sat upright.  
«Aziraphale, hey. How are you?» All he wanted was for the ground to open up and swallow him hole. He wondered if he sounded as tired as he felt. Why was he always so awkward around him?  
«I´m fine, but more importantly, are you? Is there something i can help you with?» 

He took a chair form another table and sat down. Right next to him. Right beside him. Crowley's coolness was longe gone, so he had to fake it. And Aziraphale had a confidence he hadn’t seen form the boy. Well he had only noticed him twice, but even so.  
«Well, like i said yesterday, geography.» He pointed at the question about the Coriolis effect.  
«I just can´t find the answer, and it just don't make sense.» Aziraphale was leaning over to look closer and the he lit up.  
«I can help you if you like. I know the answer to this one and… Well it's sort of my job, so.» When he saw the questioning look from Crowley he elaborated, but the shyness that he had seen before came back.  
«Well, I aren't like rich as the rest of the people here… so well I have a scholarship, but i just have to help out a bit more here at the school. So I help out here at the library. Like put books in the right shelves and help people with homework and stuff like that.» He looked down, almost like he was waiting for Crowley to laugh. When he didn't he looked up.  
«Well I think i really need help with this question, or Mr. B is going to kill me.» He smiled comforting at the angel in front of him. He didn't think any less of him. He knew that he was lucky that had a mom that had a good job. And he knew this was a good school. If his angel had worked his ass off to get in here, then he deserved to be here just as anyone else, if not more. His smile vanished. Not angel, he is not an angel and not his. But it didn't look like Aziraphale had noticed the lack of his smile, because he was flipping through the other boys book.  
«Here, I think most of it stands here, but if you want me to explain it to you, I will.» Crowley took one look at the page and then looked at the boy in front of him.  
«You know what? If you first explain it to me, then I can go over it later and see if you did it right, is that a deal Aziraphale?» He gave him a challenging smile. The boy just nodded seriously, but he had a happy glimt in his eyes.  
«Before you start tho, do you have a nickname? Aziraphale is quite a mouthful.» he said with a chuckle. Then he looked at Aziraphale and saw he was as red as a tomato.  
«Well, ehm I don't know… What do you think suit me?» Crowley hadn't though about that. They sat in silence for a while.  
«Well what does Aziraphale mean really, where did your parents get it from?»  
«It is a name of an angel I think…" Silence.  
"But my grandfather used to call me Ezra?» He said quickly.  
«Works for me angel Ezra.» This didn't help with the blush Aziraphale had, and Crowley now had a reason for calling him angel, to tease him. Not that he wanted to call him angle or anything. The rest of his free period went to listening to Ezra and taking as many notes as possible. This was the most fun class he had ever attended.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, and thanks again for reading! As i said at he last chapters i´m dyslexic and english isn't my first language, so sorry for any mistake. In this chapter I take form my own experience with dyslexia, and how frustrating it can be. I read a post last week about Crowley struggling to read so aziraphale read for him, (im trying it find the post again) and it was kind of that post that gave me inspiration to give Crowley dyslexia. If you have any questions just ask :-D Thank you again and see you soon


	4. After school

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale is angry at Crowley

Mr. B had asked him after class if he had stolen the homework or if he had gotten anyone else to do it for him. Crowley would have been offended if it was any other teacher, but he had kind of expected it. Mr. B believed him after he explained that Ezra had helped him, and also given an alternative explanation on the subject.  
«Well, good job, Crowley.» He gave him back the pice of paper and picked up his jacket, and began walking out the door.  
«It wouldn't hurt if you laid this kind of effort into reading to the upcoming test you know.» He turned the corner and the conversation was over. 

Crowley couldn't remember a single time he had gotten a compliment form his geography teacher. He fished out his phone. There was only one message that was sent, and it was a car emoji. If there was one thing he was certain of it was that Aziraphale would never send another message, if he didn't do it first.  
«Hey, Crowley here, thanks for helping me with my homework! Mr. B actually gave me a compliment» His thumb hovered over the send button. Then he hit it, before he could change his mind. He put his phone down in his pocket, and told himself that he wouldn't be checking it again before school was out. 

*

He was walking down the corridor on his way outside. The heat from his leatherjacket made him wish he was out in the autumn air already. The only thing on his mind was going home, lay down on the couch and play some video games. He was in his own world when he saw a head with curly golden hair roaming around in a locker. He walked over without thinking. Crowley leaned against the locker next to the boy, and gave him a genuine smile.  
«Hey, Ezra. Seen my message yet?» Aziraphale however didn't look up at Crowley.  
«No sorry, I must have forgotten my phone at home. What did it say?» The boy was just staring inside his locker, and he sounded like he was going to cry at any moment. He wasn't moving a muscle. Just standing there with his backpack on and the same beige jacket he always wore.  
Crowley suddenly became aware that there was a lot of people around, and he didn't want people to look at them weird. Even just talking to the boy made him look over his shoulders. He knew Ezra wasn't the most popular person in school, so it already was a little weird that he was talking to him. But if Aziraphale started to cry, well then everyone would be talking about it for days, and about why Crowley was there when he cried. Maybe they would think he said something, or maybe they would want to know why Crowley was talking to him. He didn't know. But what he did know was that he didn't want Aziraphale to cry.  
«Ezra, hey, are you okay? Should we go somewhere else?» He finally looked up at Crowley. His lip were shivering and his eyes was sad and angry. It was first now Crowley noticed that his hands were curled up in fist.  
«No, not right now. I can't talk to you today, so goodbye Crowley.» Aziraphale slammed his locker shut, and walked out. He walked with determination and was looking straight ahead of him. However, he turned right before the door closed, and the face of the angel nearly broke Crowley's heart. He just stood there, looking after the boy. Unsure what to do or what had happened. Not that he had expected them to be best pals or anything, but maybe friends. Something more than his other acquaintances. 

And that made Crowley angry. Angry at his group, angry at Aziraphale, angry at himself. Why didn't he have anyone that cared about him? Why was he alone? Why did he shut people out? All these emotions came crashing down on him at once, and it just was to much for him. He turned away from the front door, and walked towards the classrooms again.  
«Oi Crowley!» A bossy voice shouted at him. He stooped in his tracks. Beelzebub.  
«Where are you going? Me and some other friends thought of going out tonight and have a little fun,» He stopped for a moment, leaning against the wall and smirked. Not in the playful way, but in the ´I am up to no good´ way.  
«and you are welcome to join us if you like.» He looked at him like this was the best possible offer he could have gotten today. Crowley straightened up and pushed his chin forward. Looking like he didn't have a care in the world.  
«Sorry Beelz, have places to be and other things to do, maybe another time. But enjoy yourself.» He straightened his sunglasses and sipped down his leatherjacket. He turned around and began walking, to signal that he was done with the conversation. Right before he was out of earshot he heard Beelzebub talking to somebody else. Maybe on the phone? He didn’t hear it all, but what he could make out was that somebody was going to do something to someone. It sounded like it was something happening at the park. And that Beelz was looking forward to it. Crowley really felt bad for who this someone was. Beelzebub and his gang was known for causing trouble. One time a kid came to school with a broken arm, and the rumour was that it was Beelzebub, Hastur and Ligur that had done it. And just because the kid didn't do their homework in time. Crowley was a bit thankful for not being a nerd in those moments. 

He didn’t feel like going home yet, he would rather just be in the library until it closed. He could sit in one of the beanbags just chilling on the phone.  
It was almost no one here, except the librarian and some girls working on a poster. He said hey to them, and said that he was just going to do som studying before slipped out of view. He took of his jacket as he walked down an aisle, just leaving him in a black shirt. For a moment he felt exposed, but no one was going to notice him anyway, so it was okay. 

Crowley sunk down. The beanbag almost consuming him completely. It was a nice feeling. His mind was silenced for a moment and the only thing he did was listening to his surroundings. He heard the girls talking about what font sice to use, someone flip through some books and the librarian talking on the phone. It was good white noise. The only thing he could do was sit, listen and do nothing. He didn't have to put up a facade, he didn't have to be tough, he just had do be Crowley. And it was wonderful. Then he slipped away, and he was caught up in a lovely dream. 

He dreamt about flying with angels. They were flying so high up in the air, and Crowley felt free. The wind was blowing in his hair and he was laughing. It was wonderful. The other angels was flying with him. He didn't know any of them but he knew they were friendly, and he knew he could trust them. They flew around a bit more, and felt happy. But then his gasses fell off. He tuned away from the angels, scared that they would see his eyes. Crowley plummeted after them. Right before he could catch them a ringing noise pierced his ears. 

He sat up in confusion. It took a moment or two to find out where he was, and to find out where the noise came from. His phone was stabbing him in the back and Crowley fell out of the beanbag to get it. Graceful. He just laid there, listening to the sound on his phone before picking it up. Then he stopped. It was Aziraphale.  
Why was he calling him? Wasn't he angry at Crowley? He seemed pretty angry this afternoon. Then he picked up.  
«Crowley here.» It was quiet, the only thing he could hear was the other boys breath. He held his own. 

Then the boy started to talk.  
«Ehm, hey, Ezra here. Do you think you could come get me? I'm can't get home, you see.» Crowley didn't hear any emotion in his voice. Not happiness, not pain, just plainness. The few times he had talked to Aziraphale there had been some sort of emotion laying under his words. Not this time, and it was scaring him.  
«Yeah, of course. I said that i owed you that. Ehm, where are you?»  
«Just come pick me up at the park. I'll meet you there.» His blood went cold.  
«The park, yeah sure. I'll be over there in a few minutes.» As soon as Aziraphale hanged up the phone, Crowley was out the door. Bellz words about looking forward to going to the park was echoing through his head. Was it the same place? Had something happened to his angel? His thoughts was raising as fast through his head as his car was rasing through the traffic.

He sent a message as soon as he got to the parking spot at the park. He was looking after Aziraphale. Hoping, no praying, that he was okay.


	5. Trying to help

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley just trying to help the best he can.

Aziraphale wasn't answering his message's. It freaked him out. And the fact that it freaked him out freaked him out even more. Terrible thoughts flew through his head as it started to rain. He started spiraling in a way he would never tell anybody about. He was at the right park, wasn't he? What if something had happened to him. What if Bellz and their gang had been here, and what if… He stopped himself. After a few more minutes of trying to both call and text, he decided to go looking for the boy. 

It really was poring outside, and after a few seconds his hair was sticking to his forehead. It was a big park, that had a little lake with ducks and benches. And since it was so big, and since Crowley did not know his way around it, he started to yell Aziraphales name. He yelled four or five times, contemplating if he should call someone. It was freezing. His clothes was drenched and he held around himself. 

Then he saw someone sitting at a bench next to a tree. The person was blond, wearing a beige jacket and was leaning his head on the tree. His heart made a little jump and Crowley practically sprinted over to the boy.  
«Ezra! Hey.» Crowley sat down next to the boy, and put his hand on the angels shoulder.  
«Hello…» His voice was monotone and he was trembling form the cold. The way he looked made Crowleys boil with anger, and he didn’t even know who to be angry at. For all he knew Ezra could just be sitting here all alone just because. 

That though disappeared when Ezra lifted his face and turned towards Crowley. Around his left eye where a dark purple ring, and it looked like he had another briuse bruise just below his collarbone. His lips were almost blue from the cold. The weird thing was that he was completely still, no emotions showed on his face. He stared blankly at him, and Crowley didn’t know what to do. They started at each other for maybe a moment to long. Aziraphale was the one to break the silence.  
«I can't go home,» He looked away, staring at something behind Crowley's back.  
«and it hurts to move. I was wondering if you could perhaps help me get to somewhere warme and safe?» He realised that his hand was still on his shoulder, but he didn't move it. Instead he squeezed his hand to get him to look at him. It worked. They looked eyes again.  
«Where do you want me to drive you? I will drop you of and pick you up anywhere.»  
«Can you help me to your car?» He didn't answer the question, but he figured that it was probably best to ask him in later, when it wasn't raining cats and dogs. Crowley stood up, and put Ezra's backpack on. Then he helped him up and placed his arm around his nek. They hobbled over to the parking lot.

Since. The silence was suffocating, but what where he going to say. He hadn't started the car, since he didn't know where to drive. When he had asked, all he had got as an answer was that he needed to think. That was five minutes ago. He was staring out the window, looking out over the park. Water was dripping down from his golden hair and landing in his lap, and he was still shivering. If they didn’t change clothes soon, they were going to get really sick.  
«Ezra…» Crowley tried to make his voice soft and calming, something he didn’t usually do. The boy next to him shot him a glance before looking away.  
«Lets drive over to me, okay? We need to get some dry clothes or we are going to get the flu.» Aziraphale looked at him again. The bruise around his eye where odd to look at. Someone who seemed so nice wasn't supposed to get hurt. He put the car in reverse and started to drive. 

After a minute or two the car started to heat up. It felt great feeling the warm air hit them. But as the water started to evaporate of their skin and clothes, Crowleys glasses started to dew. He said a few swear words under his breath, and took his sleve up in order to try to wipe it away. He was wearing the leather jacket, so it didn't work out well. He shot a quick glance over at Ezra, observed that he was looking out of the window, and adjusted his glasses so that he could see over the brim. Just a few more minutes, and then they where home. 

After they had pulled up in the garage, Crowley had hurried over to the other side to help the angel out of the car. They got inside the house, and Crowley was guiding him towards his bedroom. It was kinda weird actually. Since he moved here, no one but his mom and the people that work here, had been in his room. He told himself that that was the only reason he had butterflies in his stomach. Ezra kept his head low, but he didn't blame him. He was probably in so much pain right now.

When they got up to his room, he lead him over to his bed. Without missing a beat, Crowley went over to his dresser and found a T-shirt and some sweatpants that he thought would fit. He was wondering if he should give him som boxers too, but decided against it. Maybe that would be inappropriate. He laid them next to the boy, and told him to wait there. Then he got some painkillers and a glass of water.  
«Go and take a shower, and then we can talk after. Okay?» 

*

Crowley had showered at the guest bathroom downstairs, and he had been quick. The white hoodie he was wearing was beginning to get a little hot, but he pressed that though to the back of his mind. He was pacing around his room, waiting for Ezra to come out. The image of him sitting under that tree, soaking and hurt, made him really upset. Of course he knew who had done it, he could put two and two together, but he didn't know why and for how long. The other thing was that he didn't knew what he could do about it. The thought was cut short as, his bathroom door unlocked and Ezra walked out. His brain stopped working for a few seconds.

First of, it was really weird seeing him in black and gray, and even weirder seeing him in Crowley's clothes. The T-shirt was something he just wore when he wasn't going outside, because it was to big on him, but it looked oddly good Aziraphale. His hair was damp and curly, and for some odd reason, all he wanted to do was run his hands through them. Just to feel what it felt like, of course. What got his brain to start working again tho, was his arms. They were great to look at, it was not that, but it was the bruises at the top of his arm. 

«How are you feeling?» Aziraphale was sitting on his bed, and Crowley moved to sit next to him. He was maybe sitting a bit to close, but it would just be awkward to move again. Aziraphale lifted his face, and for the first time since he had gotten the phone call, he saw emotion in his face. He couldn't pinpoint what emotion tho. Maybe sadness, or fondness or bitterness? Or all three and more.  
«Better now.» The words came out in a whisper and the words hung in the air.  
«Thank you. I mean it.» He turned his whole body against Crowley, and looked at him. Waiting for what he was going to do next. He was contemplating not asking him what happend, just forget about it and not make him live through it again. He could just ask where he was going to drive him, drop him of and never talk to him again. If Ezra was anyone else, maybe he would. But for some reason he wanted to know, wanted to know if he could protect this person in front of him. Crowley actually wanted someone to get close to him. Someone he could talk to and listen to. Someone who wasn't just an acquaintances, but a friend. And maybe, just maybe, that someone could be Ezra, the boy, Aziraphale, the angel that sat before him. 

But to be friends, he knew the rules. If you want people to trust you, be your friend, you have to be ready to show who you truly are, if they wanna know. Be ready to get, and more importantly, to give.  
«What happened?» He rested all his weight on his arm and looked at him.  
«I don’t… Crowley…» He saw Ezra's eyes searching for his, that was hiding behind his glasses. They where always on, even when his mother was home. He only took them off when he was alone, and no one was there to look. But…  
«You can take them off, if you feel more comfortable talking about it then… i mean, if you wanna have eye contact or some shi… something» Crowley was looking down, letting his offer float in the air. This was him giving, trying to gain trust, from a person he didn't really know, but wanted to. He stood still, closed his eyes. Waiting for what was going to happened. Then he felt a two hands on the side of his head. They closed around the sides, and was slowly leaving his face. Making him feel bare.  
«Just don’t… Don't laugh or get weirded out okay?» The glasses where removed, and his heart was beating fast. Then he opened his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, sorry having you guys wait. To be honest i lost a bit of motivation… but then I got such lovely comments and i just had to write agian. And it was honestly a really good feeling. So thank you so much if you comented, left kudos or just read. It really mean a lot. Again, i have dyslexia and are not from an English speaking country, so sorry for errors. I which you all the best <3


	6. What happened

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley get to hear what happened

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning, we get to hear about what happend to Ezra, noting graphic but just be obs.

They were just staring at each other. He felt Ezra's eyes scanning him, and it was weird. A voice inside his head told him to tear his glasses from the boys hands and put them back on. Another told him to close his eyes or run. He ignored them, instead biting in his lover lip.  
«Yhea, i know. Freaky.» He let out a little chuckle, trying to make a joke of the situation. Not let him see how insecure he actually felt about his eyes. But Ezra was just staring at him, like in a trance. It made him even more self conscious and he started to play with a tread that was on his bed. Ten more seconds passed.  
«I'll just put them back on.» He was reaching fore the glasses, but Aziraphale moved them away.  
«Don’t.» And he froze. He was looking up at the boy in front of him. Locked eyes once again. Ezra stared so intensely at him, and this time he could see that it was amazement that was painted over his face. He wanted him to take his hand and put it on his chin, holding his face, so that they could stand in this position forever. Just looking at each other.  
«Why do you hide behind them? Your eyes are wonderful, dear.» His voice was calm and reassuring.  
«It is called Heterochromia, that's the reason they are so weir…»  
«Beautiful.» Ezra interrupted. Crowley looked down. They had different definitions of beauty. When he was younger the other children had teased and asked him where he had stolen the other eye form.  
«I don't like them. It is complete heterochromia , thats why they are different.»  
«that one is green like the grass on a summer day, and the other is like the sun setting. They are lovely.» Crowley snorted at that comment, trying to play cool. Trying to hide the fact that his heart had just stopped beating for a moment, and all it wanted to do was to smile a dorky smile. 

Aziraphale must have thought that he was getting more and more uncomfortable, and gave him back the glasses. Crowley was just holding them, not putting them back on.  
«Ezra…?» He stoped, laying his hand over his.  
«Can you please tell me what happened? Or at least tell me who.» He needed to hear it.  
«It is a rather long story, dear, are you sure you wanna know?» Now it was his turn to play with something to distract himself. He started fiddling with the duvet on his bed, Ezra's hand still laying under his. Crowley just nodded, waiting for him to begin.  
«Well on Thursday, when I helped you with your homework, I was supposed to work with some… other stuff for some other people.» He took a break, and saw Crowley's expression. Had this happened because he helped Crowley?  
«Oh dear, no that… It wasn't your fault, remember. I was the one who asked if you wanted any help.» This time it was Aziraphales turn to move his hands on top of Crowley’s.  
«You see, I have this kind of… deal with Beelzebub and some of his friends. The deal is that I do… help… oh who am I kidding... I do all their homework, give them notes, and make sure they pass in all their classes. And in return they don't beet me up so often. The deal have worked good for a few years.» Ezra's voice was low, but filled with hopelessness and anger. Crowley had kind of known, well he had guessed who had done it, but he had maybe hoped it just was a one of thing. This had been going on for years.  
«Well… yesterday, after you had gone home, I began looking for their homework. I always have it in my folder you see, but I couldn't find it. And, well, I have to ask.» He took a break, clearly thinking of what to say next.

«…Did you, well, did you take it?» Crowley was suddenly regretting not putting the glasses back on. His brows shot up, and he opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to get an answer out. He didn't even know how to feel about that question. But at the same time, it explained a lot. For one, why he had been angry at Crowley after school. He had thought that he had stolen something that he was going to get beaten up for. But he hadn't even seen that folder.  
«I… No, I haven't even seen it. Truthfully that's the truth.» Ezra bit his lower lip and nodded. An awkward brake followed.  
«Right, just had to ask.» He saw that he didn't believe him, but this was not the time. Instead he decided to wait for him to continue.  
«Well I was kinda freaking out, and didn't know what to do, so i sent Beelzebub a text, asking if they needed the work tomorrow. Bad idea, let me tell you.» His voice was wobbly, but he kept it together. He took a break, stood up and started to pace around the room. 

All Crowley could do was, sit still and listen to the story, but for some reason ha had an urge to go over and hug the boy. How was it going to be when he started to talk about the ugly stuff?  
«All i got as an answer was that, yes they needed it, but if I didn't get it done in time, we could work something out today, umm, in the park. I kind of believed them. Thought that maybe this was my chance to get out of the whole homework stuff. And the beating up stuff…» Crowley was following him with his eyes. When he talked he moved his arms, and right now he was wobbling them around to make a point.  
«So, after you and me had, well kind of talked, I went to the park. I was beginning to regret meeting them there, and my stomach was full of bats. Not butterflies, bats. And then, when I got to the park, I just waited.» Ezra's eyes where shining form the tears that where forming. But he didn't stop talking.  
«They all came. Beelzebub, Hastur and Ligur. I knew I was in trouble then. They began doing their thing, but they where less careful this time…»  
«What you mean less careful?» That last comment had just popped out of him, he couldn't stop himself. Aziraphale let out a nervous chuckle.  
«Well, this is going to sound weird, but when they… do their thing… they are always carful not to show it. They hit and kick me, yes, but always where my clothes is. Probably to save their own skin, but I don't get all the questions i'm going to get because of this.» The reminder of the bruise around his eye made Crowley think that he should have asked him if he wanted an ice bag or something to put on it. He decided that he would ask after he was finished.  
«I didn't know what to do, I was in a lot of pain and…» 

He lowered himself down on the ground, tears leaving his eyes.  
«I didn't know who else to call. They… they had just left me there in the rain, and told me to go to hell and… other not nice things, and…» Aziraphale broke down. The tears started flowing and he could see that he was trying hard to collect himself.  
«You came and helped me and now we are here.» The last words where almost a whisper. He put his head in his hand and started crying. He wrapped the other hand around himself. For once he did what he himself wanted. He didn't fight himself, or tried to find a logical reason for doing it. He just did. He wrapped his hands around the boy and just hold him. Trying to comfort him. They sat in that position for a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey once again! Can I just say that i’m kind of on cloud nine? Your comments make me so happy, so thank you so so much!! Im not going to write something long here, i’m just going to start writing on the next chapter, but know that i love each and every one of you <3


	7. At Crowley's house

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just our guys enjoying some time together

It was heartbreakingly nice. If someone had come into his bedroom at that moment, he didn't know what they were going to think. Anthony J. Crowley, without his glasses, comforting and holding around Aziraphale who was crying and was covered in bruises. It was a weird sight. And even tho this was a horrible situation for Ezra, Crowley felt kind of happy. He wasn't someone who liked personal contact. Or maybe he was? He got that feeling of not having eaten in a long time, pushing down the craving for food, and when you finally start to eat you realise how hungry you actually is. He never wanted to never let go. This was an unreal situation. He was hugging someone, maybe a friend. And they just sat there without moving, just being. 

Aziraphale collected himself eventually, and Crowley remembered to ask him if he wanted an ice pack, something he did. That was why an angel was standing in the kitchen holding a pea bag to his eye.   
«I don't think this will go away over the weekend.» Crowley was pointing at the boys face, making circles motions with his finger.  
«What, do you mean the bruise or my face.» A little laugh escaped his lips, and they both just stood there smiling. Crowley knew that a bruise would take one or two weeks to disappear. The first thing that will happen is that it turns purple, and after a few more days it will turn greenish. He told all this to Aziraphale, who looked more and more defeated.  
«I have no idea how to explain it to my mom and dad. They are going to ask, and I don't think i have it in me to lie to them.»  
«What would happen if you tell them the truth?» He turned his head, unsure if he should even ask.  
«Honestly, I don't know. I don't wanna think about it.»

A nice silence followed while Crowley made some coffee and tea. Without noticing he had started humming, but Aziraphale said nothing. If Crowley had been a little more observant, he would even have noticed that Ezra was swaying along to his singing, lost in his own thoughts. Crowley had an habit of humming when he did other things. It was a way to shut off his brain and focus on what he was doing. He had made coffee so many times, so that was an thing he could do on autopilot. The tea however was another story. If you break it down to the bare essentials, all you need to make tea is warm water and a tea bag. But this tea was special, because he wanted it to be good, and perfect. He only ever made tea to his mother, so he hoped Aziraphale enjoyed the same type of tea as her.

They had moved out to the living room, and pleasant shatter was consuming the silence. Nothing to deep was talked about, just everything between heaven and hell. It gave Crowley a good feeling. He hated to admit it, but he felt lonely here most of the time. The house was big, and always clean. There was nothing too personal, like a family photo or drawings on the refrigerator, hanging around. His home looked perfect, for people form the outside, but it was just a house to him. But with Aziraphale here, it was more bearable. And that was maybe the reason he popped the question.  
«Why don't you stay here tonight?» It looked like Ezra was going to drop his teacup, and he started to cough. Aziraphale´s eyes was big and surprised . Crowley regretted asking the question right away. But he couldn't take it back. Instead he just stated to talk even more.   
«Well you said you couldn't go home and I don't know if you have any family or friends you can go to well I’m not saying you don't have any friends i’m just suggesting that you could borrow a guest room and stay so that you don't have to go home today and if I am the problem then you don't even have to see me because i can just stay in my room that’s what i do anyways when im home and…»  
«Crowley, relax.» Aziraphale´s eyes where smiling now, he looked happy and a bit amused. If Crowley didn't know any better he would have thought that he enjoyed seeing him all flustered.  
«I didn't say that I wouldn't stay, did i?» He took a break, and just watched Crowley hold his breath. Did he enjoy this?   
Then finally, he opened his mouth to answer.   
«I would love to borrow the guest room.» And that was that. 

There was nothing big that happened that evening. They continued to talk about everything thing. Crowley learned that he was living with his mom and dad, and that he had a big bother. His mom worked as a nurse, and his father was a chef at a big fancy restaurant. They didn't talk much about school, no point in bringing the mood down. Aziraphale didn't ask about his parents, something he was quite happy about. When the evening came, Crowley found a new sheet and duvet cover to put on the guest room. They worked together to make the bed, and after a while they decided to go to bed. Both said good night and went to their separate rooms. When Crowley finally drifted off to sleep was the only thing on his mind how lucky he was.


	8. Beelzebub and other bad news

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First a little fluff, before we get to the angst.

Aziraphale had stayed the whole weekend. Marie came on Saturday, as usual, and Crowley had made sure to be awake when she came. Usually he would have used the weekend to sleep in, but he didn't want her to walk in and wake Aziraphale up. So he had to explain who the stranger in the guest room was. She had just ruffled his hair and said that she was happy he had found a friend. Then she started cleaning like usual. As it turned out, Aziraphale had been awake. He had muttered about not seeing the appeal of sleeping for a long period of time, all while holding a really big book. All they did Saturday was pretty much the same as the day before. Eating, talking and enjoying each others company.

Sunday was the day Ezra had to go home. His eye still had the bruise, but he said that it was okay. He would try to explain what had happened without his parents making a fuss about it. They stood in the hallway for a moment, not knowing what to do. Crowley decided that he wanted to say proper goodbye, so he leaned in and gave him a hug.   
«So long, Aziraphale.» At first, the boy in his arms went stiff. Horrifying thoughts began streaming through his head, but they all disappeared when he began hugging back. The moment didn't last as long as he wanted to, but all good things must come to an end. Ezra smiled at him, waved and said his goodbyes before walking away. 

He closed the door and walked upstairs. For a few seconds all he could do was look out the window and follow the boy with his eyes. He walked over to his nightstand and put on his glasses againg. It was both comforting and alien to have them on again. So many emotions was flying through him, and he didn't know what half of them meant. He didn't even know if he wanted to know what they meant. Instead of answering all the questions he had, he just pressed them back. He could come back to them later.

*

Monday mornings where the worst, in Crowley's opinion. That was why he was late again. Actually he had just missed the first class, but that was no big deal. Not really. That just meant that it was an even shorter period until lunch. He knew that Aziraphale weren't here today, so he knew he wouldn't be running into him. A part of him was kinda relieved, and the other part felt guilty for feeling that. It was just that he didn't know how he should be around him when his friends, well his kinda friends, was around. Because he was sort of on the top of the food chain, and Aziraphale was… well not on top. So when he eventually start a conversation with him, how should he react?

Him and Newt was talking about how to fix something on the car, when Beelzebub plopped down next to them. A sheeplike smile was painted on, and Crowley hated the way people just came flocking to him.   
«Hey Crowley, you really missed out last Friday.» He was sitting on top of the table, turned against the all the people who had followed him just to hear what he had done now.  
«Oh really? I don't really think I did.» Every nerve in his body told him to punch him the same way they had done to Aziraphale, but he composed himself. Beelz turned towards the crowd that had collected behind him, and began explaining the way he beat up Aziraphale. He told them in a way that made it sound like he deserved it, and that they where in their right to do so. The group laughed. They were all on his side, because none dared to be on the other side. They all heard what he was capable to do, and no one, not even Crowley, wanted to be on the other side.  
«Don't that sound fun?» The whole group nodded in agreement, but that question was meant for Crowley. In the corner of his eye he could se a big figure looming. The guy was always wearing a suit, and he never got in trouble. Gabriel. He was walking towards them.  
«Ngk» Was all he could get out.  
Beelzebub turned around on the table, and moved so close that Crowley could clearly see every pore in his face. The sheepish grin turned to something that looked almost evil.   
«Sometimes soon, well we are going to go another round. And Crowley, you are going to join us.» That was not a question, that was a command. He had assembled all these people, just so he could not say no. He had to find a way out.   
«Well i’m not looking to get in trouble, what if he tells on us?» That was a cowardly answer, and he knew it, but that was better than saying no.   
«Didn't know you where worried about trouble. Oh well,» For one moment he thought he had got out of it.   
«Gabriel? Come over here.» Shit. Gabriel towered over them, looking serious.   
«Yeha?»   
«Your father owns the restaurant The Phale’s work at right?»   
«I think Azira’s father is the head chef, yes.»  
«So if he tells on you, and you get in trouble. Well your father wouldn't be so pleased with Azira’s father, now would he?» Gabriel nodded. Crowley really didn't like where this conversation was going for two reasons. It looked more and more like he had no way out. And he also learned that Aziraphale’s name wasn’t Aziraphale, but Azira Phale. He feelt like a moron.  
«Well, then Crowley, there you have it. You wont get in trouble. I will text you when and where to meet us.» He hopped down from the table, and everybody that was crowding them disappeared. 

He got up without another word, he heard faintly Newt calling out his name, but he ignored it. He got in the car and started driving. All he knew for certain was that he felt trapped. And so he did the only thing he felt like doing, he screamed. His throat was hurting, but it felt good. The car took him where he needed to be. In front of a big hose, where he knew he would be alone. His house. Because that was what he always was. Alone. Before he knew it he had parked in his garage. The door was slowly closing behind him, and he was left in the dark. Just sitting in his car feeling helpless. Crowley just started weeping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fist of, long time no see… I am so sorry this took so long to get out. I have just been so busy the last two weeks, but I am back now. Well kinda. I know a lot of things are going to happen the next couple of weeks, but i will try to post as much as i can. Sorry about that, but i will promise to try. I usually respond to comments when I post a new chapter, so if you want a ‘pling’ the next thing i post, maybe thats an idea.
> 
> Secondly, wow this got angsty. The plan was to end with fluff, but Crowley was feeling rather angsty when i wrote this, so I just followed his lead. Haha, but I promise the fluff will come soon, so prepare for that. I also don't know how many chapters this story will be, but i know where I am going. 
> 
> And lastly, Thank you so much for reading, commenting and leaving kudos. I really appreciate it. I have dyslexia and English is not my first language, so all the support you guys are giving me is really helping the occasionally writers block and lack of motivation. So thank you so much for that. And with that, I will stop this long note. Goodbye for now.


	9. a drunken phone call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley may have had a bit too much to drink

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Crowley is drunk here

The glasses had been taken off ages ago, and he was now lying on the floor, giggling. He felt happy and light. What was he so worried about anyway, he could do anything. If he wanted to he could call Aziraphale or… no Aziraphale isn't his name, it's Azira Phale. So if he wanted, he could call and go over to his place or text him. Maybe call? Or he could punch Beelzebub and Gabriel at the same time. He could even call his mother! He could do anything. Nothing was stopping him. 

Then he stood up, and was prepared to go over to his desk to get his phone, but he was down on the floor again for some reason. His head hurt. Crowley couldn't get up. He looked around himself, trying to find out why. It couldn't be that he had been drinking to much. It was just some wine and a bit of vodka. Nothing to worry about.  
With some help from his bed, and then his chair, he reached over to his phone. The first thing he noticed was that he had several messages from Newt, but all the letters moved around, and his head hurt to much to make them stand still. The next thing was that it was over midnight. Crowley couldn't remember it getting dark, but when he looked outside he could see the moon. A little voice told him that he could wait until tomorrow to be with Azira, but he an even bigger voice won him over with promises of seeing that beautiful face and hearing his wonderful voice. He wasn't even nervous when the phone started to ring. 

Crowley leaned against his desk and felt a little giggle escaping before, a groggy voice came from the other side.  
«Crowley? Do you know what time it is?» He must have woken the boy up.  
«Yeeeeha I do de time is 0:48» It was said way to quickly, but he just rolled with it. Azira surely got what he was saying.  
«Are… Are you okay? What was that loud sound» Loud sound? Crowley couldn't answer that, but he knew that he was down on the floor again. He closed his eyes and tried to focus. All he wanted was to talk to Azira and get to be with him.   
«I think I feel over but i’m great if we could meet.»   
«Crowley, that’s not a sentence.» Crowley was giggling again, because he could hear that Azira was smiling.  
«Are you, by any chance, drunk right now?»   
«What if i was? And Idontreallyknow» He tried to sound cool, but it was like he was reading the words and not saying them.  
«Azira where doo you live?» That was all he wanted to know. He just wanted to go over to his place and talk like they had done yesterday and the day before that.  
«Crowley, I am not going to tell you that. It is almost 1 in the morning and my parents are home. Even if they are happy that I have a friend, I don't think they will be happy that you came to see me in the middle of the night. And you are drunk!» His voice was low and bossy, probably trying to intimidate him, but he couldn't stop smiling.  
«haha, you saaaid it. Doo you mean iit?» It was bubbling inside him. He felt like he could fly.  
«What?»  
«That we are friends?» He was anticipating and answer, but all he got was science. His giggling stopped and some of that happy feeling disappeared. Did he say that they were friends? Or did he imaging it? Damn his head really hurt and the room begun to spin slowly. Azira was quiet.  
«Ezra…? Sorry I… I don't know.» Crowley took the phone away from his ear, and just stared out in the nothingness. Neither of them said anything. Neither of them where hanging up.

«Are you there?» Azira whispered through the phone.   
«Yes.» Crowley whispered back.  
«If I answer, do you promise to not drink more tonight and go to sleep?» He was still whispering.  
«Yes.» He was tired anyway. The buzz was starting to go away and if he didn't drink some water then his head would hurt like hell the next day. Azira took a breath and then he answers.  
«You are my best friend Anthony. Goodnight.» Then the line went dead. 

Crowley felt all sorts of different things. And this time he could at least name a few of them. The biggest was happiness. In under a week he had gotten something he wasn't sure he ever had had. Not only a friend. A beast friend. And yea, maybe he was a bit to big to call someone his best friend, but right now he didn't care. Azira and him had gotten to know each other over the weekend, and sure, there was a lot of things they didn't know about the other, but that was kinda exciting. 

He also felt quite divided, with the whole Beelzebub thing. Or he did know what he wanted to do, and that was not to do anything. But the thing there was that he kinda liked having everyone like him too. He didn't wanna hide away. Like Azira had done. He had to do something so that he didn't have to do anything. He just didn't know what yet. It felt like both him and Gabriel had a hand around his neck and was slowly choking him.

And then there was one more emotion, one that he actually didn't wanna know what was about. He at least tried to pretend like he didn’t. He knew the word, but didn't wanna say or even think it. Every time he had felt that in the past he had just tried to repress it. Either with drinking, playing to high music or driving too fast. A few times a combo of all three. He wasn't ready to name that emotion, but he knew that it was there now. And he also knew that it was stronger than the other times he had felt it.

Crowley got up from the floor, and laid down on his bed. He took a glass of water and closed his eyes. Instead of thinking of all the bad things that could happen, like he usually did, he instead played Ezra's words over and over in his head. ´You are my best friend Anthony. Goodnight. You are my best friend Anthony. Goodnight. You are my best friend Anthony. Goodnight.´ And then he fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey once again! This chapter is a bit more light and a bit more fluffy, so hope you guys enjoy it! I have written a bit ahead the last few days, so lets just say that you should enjoy the fluffiness here now… But I cant thank you guys enough for reading this, and thank you for all your kudos and comments, it really warms my heart<3 Untill next time!


	10. Butterflies and other reasons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley and Azira talk, and Crowley is a nervous wreck

A little over a week had gone by, and Azira was back. They had talked a lot over the phone. When Crowley had gotten sober the next day, he had called to say sorry for drunk dialing him, and they had just talked and talked. It was quite nice. Azira had even persuaded him to promise to not skip a single school day the week he was gone, which is something that rarely happens. Azira came back on Monday, which was two days ago, but Crowley hadn't gone and said anything to him yet. Lunches and breaks where all used in either the cafeteria or being in class on time. In the meantime, Azira was in the library, sending him messages throughout the day. He answered them, and they always made him smile, but whenever the question about coming to meet him was brought up he found an excuse. He told himself that it was only because of Beelz and Gabriel. Crowley had seen them talk with each other multiple times. They just looked like they were planning something, and it really got under his skin. And whenever one of them where close, he could feel their eyes burn in the back of his neck. But if he were being honest with himself, that wasn't the reason for not seeing Ezra. The real reason was that he was really nervous. Even when they talked over the phone, his heart started to race, what would happen when they meet face to face again? 

Turns out that he would find out real soon. In his last class in fact. So far the day had been pretty average. A bit boring, but that where to be expected. It was 10 minutes until the bell rang, and after that he was planing on going home and just relaxing. And then he got a message. When he took his phone out and saw it was Azira he began smiling. That stopped however when he saw what he had typed. «Meet me at the back of the school after your class. We need to talk.» If Crowley knew anything about texting, and he liked to believe he did, then that period meant trouble. He sent back an okay and put a smily at the end, just for show. And to calm his nerves. Those 10 minutes went by way to fast, and he was suddenly on his way out back. So many thoughts flew through his head, and he played to many scenarios about what was about to happened that he began to feel a little dizzy. When he turned the last corner he saw him. He sat with his back turned against him and his backpack was sitting at the bench next to him. His head was as golden and curly as it usually was, and if the sun had been out his hair would have been looking like it was literally gold. Instead heavy rain clouds hang over them, like the dread in Crowley's stomach. 

He quietly sat down next to the angel like figure, muttering a small hi and not looking up at him. Crowley sat with his head hanging and Azira was quietly observing him. They sat in silence for a few moments before he broke it.  
«Crowley, have I done something.» His voice was stern but he could hear some softness underneath. It was first then he dared to look up at the man beside him. He looked angelic even with blue and green painted across his eye. His brows pulled together, and he was waiting for an answer.  
«Nothing. It is just… I don't know.» Azira clearly wasn't happy with that answer, because he stood up and began pacing.  
«Oh pardon me for thinking something is wrong. It is just that I have been gone over a week, and we have been talking a lot, but the moment I come back you don't even wanna come see me!?» Anger was filling his voice as he unveiled all the thoughts that he obviously had been going around with for a while. He continued his monologue, standing right in front of Crowley and making his voice softer.  
«Look, I understand that I aren't on top of the popular list and that you are, but it is not fair to me to be your second choice. So if that is the reason that you haven't seen me… Well I understand, but please tell me. Because I go around thinking that i have done or said something horrible and I don't wanna go down that spiral any more.» He shut his eyes and took a moment to catch his breath. Crowley used this time to compose himself. He stood up and took his hands on Azira’s shoulders, moving him so that they stood parallel with the bench.  
«Azira, I literally don't know what I’m about to say. So lets just go with the flow, shall we?» Ezra slowly reached up, as if to test if he would stop him, and removed his glasses. Without breaking eye contact he folded them together and placed them on the bench next to his angel backpack.  
«I am ready when you are.» His heart was beating so fast, from nervousness and from just being in Azira’s company. He didn't have any answers and no idea of what he was going to say, so he was going to do something very dangerous. Crowley was about to speak from the heart.  
«I am so lucky that you are my friend. Never forget that, okay? Like, I haven't known you for a long time, but you are literally my longest friend, and that’s saying something. You say that I’m popular, on the top of the list or whatever, but that is not true. I’m just… there, trying to hold on to a spot where people don't try to drag me down. I’m not ashamed of you, never, ever think that! I was just… I was really nervous seeing you again…» The eye contact had lasted throughout the whole conversation, but Crowley broke it and looked at the ground when he said the last part.  
«- you know, with your eye and stuff.» That part with the eye was the only thing made up, the rest was true. He felt a pair of arms wrapping around him, and he wrapped his around the man who was now holding him. The sky opened up as on command, and it started to pour down.  
«I believe you. But please don't ignore me like that again, okay?»  
«Okay.»  
«Do you wanna come to my place? We can make some warm chocolate and my mom baked some crackers this weekend.» Azira half broke the hug and stared up on the taller boys face. Crowley just nodded while another nervous ball was forming inside his stomach. They were going to Azira’s house. He was going to meet his parents. They began sprinting over to Crowley's car, and when Azira fell a little behind he reacted out and took his hand. They were both laughing, and the laughter continued all the way over to the Phale’s house.  
What they didn't know was that Hastur had been spying on them, taking pictures of their hug and them holding hands. And Crowley without his glasses. Something that Beelzebub would be very happy to hear about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everybody! Okay, just a heads up, the next chapter will be up in a couple of days, and it will have jumped a bit in time. 
> 
> Thank you so much! This is the tent chapter! Im kinda proud of myself for sticking to this story. There have been moments when I almost gave up, but suddenly got kudos or one of you left an comment and I just get this energy to keep writing. So thank you so much. I love you all and take care of your self! <3


	11. Everything is going to shit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything is going to shit!
> 
> Trigger waring: drinking, mention of abandonment and homophobic language

He had found a balance, and life was good for a chance. He had found a compromise at school. His free periods where used in the library, helping Azira with different tings or just distracting him from what he was supposed to do. The lunch period was used at his normal table with his other group. Newt had questioned a few times what he did in his free periods, but he just thought he was joking when he said that he was hanging in the library. Newt wasn't to disappointed that Crowley was gone tho, because he was busy with other things. A new student had just started at the school, and she was the only thing he talked about. Anathema this, and Anathema that. But Crowley had to admit, after talking to her, she really was as interesting as Newt was boosting about. Newt had invited her to come sit at the lunch table one day, and she got along with everybody. He was genuinely happy for Newt. 

The time he had spent over at Azira’s house could be described with one word: Wonderful. Mrs and Mr Phale was very nice to Crowley, and he had been invited over multiple times for dinners and such. Their house wasn't big, but it was cosy. Azira’s room was also interesting. It was quite small, but it was Crowley's favourite place in the whole house. Three of the walls were painted white, while one were heavenly blue. They often ended up sitting in Azira’s bed, since that was the only surface in there that wasn't covered in books.  
Today was one of those days. It was the last week of November, and Azira’s parents were out of town visiting his aunt. The excuse he had come up with was that he had to stay home to finish some homework. They had bought the lie, and that was why the two of them now sat at Azira’s bed with an empty wine bottle between them, exchanged stories.  
«Wait, you never skipped a day?» They where both smiling and giggling and the mood was light and funny.  
«Well there was this one time, I think I was 11. We had this test and I hadn't studied enough, so i pretended to be sick.» Azira looked slightly embarrassed.  
«Wow what a rebel!» His sarcasm made the other man laugh. Crowley leaned against the wall looking into space.  
«Well you can’t really be a rebel with strict parents.» The comment was meant to be funny, but it turned the mood.  
«Strict? In what way?» Crowley was curious, and personal talk was often easier when you have had a couple of drinks. To him Azira’s parents seemed like they were perfect. They was always home, and they had a good relationship with each other and their son. When they sat around the dinner table the talk would flow naturally.  
«They, well… They are strict in the normal way. I think? They are really involved in my school work, they don’t really want me to drink, cheers by the way, and they are, well religious.» Both glasses where empty, and Azira’s head was now also leaning against the wall. Just inches away from Crowley's head. The religious part struck Crowley.  
«What about your mother, is she strict?» If it weren't for the wine, he would never even asked him about his mother. He sat up, looking straight at Crowley. He had told Azira about his mother and how she never was around a few weeks ago. It just came up naturally in a conversation, so he told the basic stuff. How she always is on a work trip and don’t have time to talk on the phone, but also how she has never missed a single birthday or Christmas. He really love his mother, and he know how much she do for the two of them, but he felt a bit resentful against her. When Azira had asked about his father, he had shut him down immediately.  
«No, not really. She cares that I do my best in school, and that I have a good time, like not getting… bullied…» He controlled his voice, so that it was slow and steady. That was thoughtless, he shouldn't have said anything about bullying.  
«Hey, it’s okay! Beelzebub haven't laid a hand on me since that day in the park! And nobody have asked me to do their homework. Do you know how much time I suddenly have on my hands?» A stone had suddenly decided to appear in Crowley's stomach. 

Last week at school Gabriel had cornered him right after gym. The man had loomed over him and told him that he had to tell Azira to meet him at the park next Saturday. When he had told him that Azira didn't trust him like that he had just laughed and pressed him violently against the wall.  
«We both know that’s not true, don't we Crowley?» Every cell in his body had told him to run, but Gabriel's firm hand had pinned his jacket against the wall, stopping him form running.  
«Well if we really are so close as you say we are, then you know I wont tell him to come. Go and tell that to Beelz. Tell him that I wont do anything for him, especially when there is violence involved.» Gabriel suddenly seemed smaller, and Crowley placed a hand on his, before shoving it away.  
«Whatever you say, Crowley. But know this, we will do what we plan to do, and you will be there to watch.»

Two concerned eyes were scanning him up and down.  
«Anthony, are you okay?» His eyes were trying to find his, but they were hidden behind his glasses. Right now they had to stay on.  
«I… I have to tell you something. I should have told you months ago, but I hoped it would just go away.» Then, with a trembling voice, he told Azira what Beelzebub and Gabriel had planned. He explained how Beelz had told him about the plan in front of the whole cafeteria, and how he had involved Gabriel so he could threaten him with his parents. Lastly he told him about what had last week. How they wanted him to get Azira in the park the next Saturday.  
«You should have told me.» Azira was emotionless. His eyes were cold, and it looked like he had sobered up.  
«I’m sorry, angel, I…» He got cut off.  
«Can you please go, Crowley? I need time to think.»

Azira didn't follow him downstairs. He walked over to the Bentley and drove home. When he the next day walked into the library, Azira was absent. Crowley knew that Azira wasn't angry at him, he was just conflicted. But that was the problem. All he wanted was for them to talk and find a way out of this, together. He didn't have to go through this alone anymore. Thoughts flew through his head as he walked into the bathroom. After splashing some water in his face he was ready to leave. But a voice form behind stopped him  
«You play so though, but we both know that is just an act.» Beelzebub. He was walking out of one of the stalls and started to wash his hands. Not looking at Crowley.  
«I don’t know what you are talking about.» He walked towards the sinks, trying to look as tall as possible.  
«You are afraid of what everyone think about you.» There was a hint of amusement in his voice and a little smile crept up on his lips.  
«Wow you got me real good there, Beelz, because no one have ever cared about people liking them. Grow up!» His sarcasm made the other man laugh an uneasy laugh. Was he really that dum? Everyone is afraid of what people think of them, and if he were to guess, he guessed that Beelzebub was that to.  
«Oh you think I should grow up, do you? Well i’m not the one hiding behind some cheep looking sunglasses.» He walked right in front of Crowley. The two of them where about the same size, but Beelz somehow seemed taller. Crowley took a step backwards, crashing into the wall. He continued.  
«Look at me, i’m so mysterious and don't care about my classes! Please drop the act, Anthony, you don't scare me. In fact it is you that should be scared of me.» Crowley was scared of him. That was the problem. He had the whole school on his side, and not one teacher would believe him over Beelzebub. But he couldn't tell him that of course.  
«Really, I would like to see you try.» Crowley straighten up and adjusted his glasses. He was walking slowly forwards the door, not anticipating an answer. But he got one.  
«Well, see me try. Does these words mean anything to you. Dyslexia. work trip. abandoned and…-» He stopped. It felt like several knifes where in his back.  
«oh, and gay.» The glass ran over, and Crowley was suddenly on the other side of the room, gripping Beelzebub's jacket and trying to look as angry as he could. The reality was that he was really, really scared. The other man waited for him to say anything, but when he didn’t, his evil smile just grew bigger.  
«Oh, no snarky comments now I see.» He brushed him off and this time it was his turn to walk to the door. Somebody had stolen Crowley's voice.  
«You pretend that you are so cool, but the reality is… something else.» If his glasses had been off then everybody could have seen how close he where to breaking.  
Beelzebub was almost out the door, and the look on his face showed that he really enjoyed to make him feel this small. «All you really are Crowley, is an illiterate faggot with mommy and daddy problems. And if I where you, and I say this just to be nice, I would do just as I say, or everybody will know what I do. And I doubt anybody would like or even talk to you then.» The door closed behind him, and Crowley was alone. A black hole opened in his heart, and he felt scared. If anyone found out any of those things… He needed more time. It wasn't that he was embarrassed by his mother and father, every rich kid here probably have similar problems, but those two others. He had not had any time to figure it out. Figure himself out. How did Beelzebub even know that… that he thought about… things. 

How Beelzebub had known any of that was beyond his understanding. He opened up a stall, sat down and took out his phone. It rang three times before it went to voice mail.  
«Hey, mom. Sorry just me here. Just wanted to hear how you are, and tell you that… well its nothing really. Sorry for calling. Bye.» His voice was weak, but it didn't break. It took all his strength to not start bawling. Then with a shaky hand he sent a single message to Azira.  
«Everything is going to shit, please don’t leave me too.»

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... that was fun...? Sorry for taking a bit longer to update, but as you guys can see, this was a bit longer and waaay more angsty. Can I just say that I hate Beelzebub, but it is really fun to write him! Thank you guys so much for commenting and leaving kudos, it really means a lot! Until next time!


	12. Thank god for Azira

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley is having a panic attack, and thank god for Azira
> 
> TW: Descriptive episode of a panic attack

His whole body was filled with dread. What if Beelzebub tells the whole school. What if he is outside, just waiting for him to go out of the bathroom. Or what if he hurts or tell Azira? His breathing became shallow and his heart was beating so fast. It felt like he had ran a marathon. Crowley was looking for a way out, the stall he was in was to small. But he couldn't go out the door. Beelzebub is outside. Is there a window? Of course not. The whole world is going to know. Know things he isn't sure about yet. They'll hate him. Punch him. Call him names. He's going to hell. He is wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. He couldn't control his breathing. Maybe this is how it is going to end? In a school bathroom, trying to reach his mother. She not answering. Azira not answering. He’s probably still mad. He probably hate him. Definitely hate him. Crowley's face was red and sweaty. His reflection in the phone looked horrible. 

While he was spiraling, another person walked into the bathroom. He checked if the stall was locked. It wasn’t. He couldn't lock it. They might hear. That made this whole situation worse. He tried not make a sound. Keeping cool. But his breathing revealed him. The persons footsteps sounded like bullets being shot at him. But just missing. Just giving him small heart attacks.   
«Crowley, are you in there?» When he heard Azira’s voice he broke down. He fell down on the floor, making himself as small as possible. He was there. He wasn't alone. He felt alone. No sound could escape his lips. He couldn't do anything. He was paralysed. All he needed was to reach out. The door opened. 

His hyperventilation hadn't stopped. Thoughts that everyone was going to hate and abandon him flowed through his mind. Azira’s face came into view, and he looked so beautiful. Why did he have to look so beautiful.  
«Okay Anthony, I’m here.» His voice was calm and careful.   
«Anthony, look at me. Good. I need you to get up from the floor and sit on the toilet, okay? That will make it easier to breathe. Can you do that for me?» He unsteadily got up from the floor, and did as told. He was a little light-headed and his heart was still beating really fast. What if he dies now? The air wouldn't reach his lungs.  
«Good. Okay, I’m going to do my best to help you. Can you try to breathe out of your nose when I say odd number, and in through your mouth when i say an even one?» He still couldn't answer, so all he did was nod. Then Azira started to count. He started a bit fast, but slowed down gradually. All he did was try his best. It didn't go flawlessly, but he calmed down a little. Azira was something to focus on.   
«You are doing so good. Okay I’m going to ask you som questions. Is that okay?» It took all his strength, but he managed to get out a small yes. The world was spinning and he had to concentrate on breathing.   
«Okay, What is your name?» Breathe in.  
«Anthony Crowley.» Breathe out.  
«What is your favorite colour?» Breathe in.  
«Blue.» Breathe out.  
«Who am I?» Breathe in.  
«Azira Phale» Breathe out.  
«Good. Is it okay that i touch you?» The godsend man was still standing in the door frame, serving like a lighthouse for Crowley, but as soon as he gave him his consent he crouched down in front of him and touched his hand.   
«Do you feel better?» His heartbeat was still beating a bit fast, and he was really tired. Maybe he should go outside. Stand in a field. Be in a place he didn't feel trapped in.   
«I feel better. Tired, but not so…» The word he was looking for had disappeared.  
«Anxious? Yea, that’s understandable.» Azira looked up at him, a small smile was painted across his face, but his eyes still looked worried. Then he leaned forward and pressed the man into him.   
«What just happened to me? I felt to trapped, I couldn't breath and I thought I was going to die.» His body was slightly shaking, but two arms wrapped around him and reminded him that he was not alone. Azira was there. Hugging him.  
«A panic attack. And we should probably go to the nurse. Not because it is dangerous or anything, but jut to get some information.» A panic attack. Crowley had heard about it, but never experienced it before. And hopefully never will again. He was thankful for Azira tho. He didn't know what he would have done if it weren't for him.   
«Thank you. I mean it.» He squeezed him, and a little snort tumbled out of Azira.  
«No problem. I’m just happy you message me. I hoped I guessed correctly that you were in the bathroom, so thank God for that.»   
«I’ll save you from bullies and you’ll save me from my mind.» It was meant to be a sweet thing, but it sounded bitter. Bitter sweet. They untangled from the hug.

«You don't have to answer this, okay? But I have to ask. What triggered the attack?» It was bound to happened, he knew that. When someone gets a panic attack, there was most likely something that triggered it.   
«Beelzebub said some things, and I kinda freaked out. Sorry.» Could he tell him about what he had accused him of being? In the last couple of months he had put some thoughts into who he likes. Because he likes Azira, but do he like him in that way? He had thought about it before to, but every time he began thinking about a boy in… that way, he just shot it down again. Trying to ignore it. But that was the troublesome part. Because he knew that he had liked girls before, but sometimes he would think about guys in the same way.  
«Wait, Beelzebub is the reason for this?! I thought that he only went after the weak one.» Azira’s face twisted into rage. The thing was, he didn't think it was wrong to be gay. He just thought that it was wrong for him to be it. Let people like who they like, but he didn't wanna like another man.   
«He didn't beat you up right? We have to tell someone, he can’t go around terrorising people like this!» But the thing that probably triggered him most was that word. He didn't like to think about it to much, and he was never going to talk about it, but one of the last times he and his father talked, he had used that word. For a long time he had blamed himself for him leaving. If only he could have been different. Just a bit more masculine and macho. Just hearing that word again, and all the other stuff had just been to much. He was lost in old memories and new thoughts.   
«-… And then we can do something about this!» It's the firmness in Azira’s voice that snaps him out of his head.   
«Can we just go outside first? I need some air and to be somewhere open.» His legs are a bit shaky but he managed to go over to the sinks.  
«The only open space around here is the parking lot, but I think that will do, my dear.» He looked up at him. It wasn't the first time he had called him that, but this was the first time he had been called MY dear. Butterflies formed hin Crowley's stomach. Azira’s smiled with his whole face, and with such earnest. All he wanted to do in that moment was to get close to him and never let go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was kinda hard to write, but I felt I had to write it. I’m almost done with the next chapter, but I appreciate a little pep talk! A lot to do these days, but comments from you remind me why I write and give me both inspiration and motivation to do so! Thank you so much, and see you at the next chapter!


	13. Story of a first kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Azira tells Crowley of the time he almost got his first kiss.

They were all alone in the parking lot. Only cars surrounded them. A cool breeze hit their faces and he could finally take a deep breath. Azira fished out a bottle of water and handed it to him. The cold water felt good and refreshing, and as he haded it back he sent a grateful smile to Azira.  
«Thanks, I really needed that.» The two men sat down on the sidewalk, looking at all the cars that where surrendering them. Most of them where expensive, but some stood out. In the sea of all the fancy cars, it was only the cars that was normal that was wort looking at. Something heavy was suddenly resting on his shoulder. Azira. Crowley closed his eyes, finally returning hundred percent back to reality. He had just hit rock bottom, but Azira had been there to help him out. His knight in shining armor was now resting his head on his shoulder.

«How did you know how to calm me down?» The question was hanging in the air for a while.  
«I have had panic attacks before. First one when I was 13 actually. You have to promise not to tell anyone, okay?» He promised and neither of the two moved. Crowley waited to see if the story was going to continue.  
«Well, me and some boys was in a forest behind the school I went to. We where just playing around and I was so happy you see.» He shifted a little bit, but his head was still panted firmly on his shoulder.   
«I had been obsessed with one of them for months and we where finally hanging out. And well he asked me if I had gotten my first kiss yet.» If Crowley had seen his face, he would have seen it turn pinker and pinker by the minute. He also would have seen the ghost of a longing smile.   
«We where 13, so I said no. Didn't think it was a big deal, but to them it was. One of them said that I should just kiss someone to get it over with, and they asked who I wanted to kiss the most…» He stopped for a moment, taking in a breath. This was clearly not something he liked to talk about.   
«You could guess who I said… They all started to laugh, and called me gay and other things. Turned out they had invited me just to find out if I was gay or not.» It was like he was telling the story of another person. His voice was distancing and cold.   
«And then they told the whole school. When I got home that day and my parents asked me how my day was, I just broke down. Not the perfect way to come out, or what?» A cold laugh escaped his lips and he sat up looking at Crowley. He looked calm and wonderful. And he’s gay. Crowley’s mind was blank. How do he react? How do he speak? Azira’s head shot up and looked like a mixture between horrified and amused.  
«Are you okay? Didn't you know that I was… Oh i’m sorry. Just though you knew. Rumours travel fast here, so I just assumed…-»   
«Who was your first?» He interrupted. A part of him wanted to know who the lucky fellow was. A part of him didn’t.  
«Sorry, what?» Two confused eyes tried to find his behind his glasses. Is this a good time to take them of? So that they could see eye to eye?  
«Who was your first kiss?» The clarification helped, and the other mans ears turned to a shade of hot pink.  
«This is going to sound so dumb, but I am still waiting for the right guy.» Thoughts about him being so pure flowed through Crowley's head. He subconsciously bit his lips.  
«How do you know who mister right is?» This was a honest question. When he had kissed before, was some of them more right than others? And who where his?  
«Well think I do know someone, and it might be him, but I am waiting for him to make a move» For a quick second their eyes looked, but Azira shot his glance down as fast as it had happened.  
«Why?» Crowley suddenly felt jealous. Who was this person? And what was it about him that Azira liked to much?  
«Well I’m not sure if he even like guys, let alone me.» Crowley's classes was in his hand. His head hurt and he rubbed his eyes. He really felt for this dude. He was in the same position.   
«And I want to wait to see if he thinks of me in the same way. Don't want to pressure him into thinking he has to do anything.» His voice was somber, like he had given up hope. He somehow had to make him feel better. A thought suddenly feel down in his head.   
«Well, what if he have though about you to? What if he wants to, but is to afraid?» He was speaking from experience. That was what he felt towards the angel beside him.   
«What dose he have to be afraid of? He is one of he most popular people in school. He wont be poked fun of.» A popular guy who might be gay? He knew almost everyone, and the only person he could think about questioning himself in that circle was… Wait could it be possible that he is talking about…  
«But what if he will… And what if he don't know if he’s gay?» He looked intensely at the other man, but he was still staring into the ground. Crowley needed to see his eyes to be sure that he knew who he was talking about. His words echoed through his mind. It was true. What Beelzebub had said had really struck a core with him. But if he had someone else to help him.  
«No perhaps not. Maybe it's just me being silly.» He mumbled, slowly looking up at him. He gave him a small smile, but his eyes looked questioning. His whole body leaned slightly towards him.  
«Do I know him?» He had to test.  
«Very well.» Crowley's body leaned towards his. They were face to face. Their lip just inches apart.  
«If he kissed you now, what would you do?» It came out as a whisper, all he could do was look down at his lips. And with the same volume, Azira whispered his answer.   
«Kiss him right back.»

Their lips meet. For a few seconds his mind went blank, and all he could focus on was what his instinct told him to do. He took one of his hands and placed it gently on the back of his head, carefully so he didn't interrupt this. Then he started to play with whose curls he had been dying to touch. Azira had cupped his face with right hand, and was also playing with his hair with the other one. Crowley was pressing the two of them closer together. He didn't want them to be further apart from him than he had to. It felt like they where floating on a cloud. He couldn't stop smiling as they continued to move their lips in sync.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAAAAAH! Yes! Finally!! I have been waiting to write this for so long! An two chapters is such a short time, wow who am i??! But in all honesty this was such a fun chapter to write, and I got to play a little with the characters and paint out Azira’s backstory a little. Thank you once again for reading! Without the comments I got on my last chapter I wouldn't have been able to write this chapter so fast<3 Until next time, I have to go write some angst! >:-)

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, and thank you for reading! This is my first fic here on this side, and i´m quite nervous and excited about it. I´m dyslexic and english isn't my first language, so sorry for any mistake. Hopefully you can oversee them :-) I´m done with a rough draft of the story, and a few chapters so i hope to update regulary. Again thanks for reading, and have a nice day :-D


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